Pet Verse
by Dire Banshee
Summary: An AU where the supernatural is common knowledge, Hunting is a paying job, and angels and demons are considered little more than animals like cats and dogs and are kept as pets and Hunting Companions by humans fluffiness and eventual Het and Slash
1. Chapter 1

**The Egg**

Disclaimer: Yes, I, Eric Kripke, have nothing better to do with my time besides write fanfiction of my own show and post it on the internet. Pfft, I wish. Not mine, never will be.

John opened the door to the scent of roast beef wafting from the kitchen.

"Mary?" he called, setting the bundle in his arms down on his arm chair.

"In the kitchen," came her reply.

She was at the sink, washing dishes and John walked up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and fanning large hands over her belly. At five months Mary was glowing and, ever since she'd started to show John hadn't been able to keep his hands off of her. She turned, grinning, and raised her face for a kiss which he gladly bestowed.

"John," a voice hissed, effectively breaking the mood for the Hunter. John turned in time to see Azazel enter the kitchen. Mary smiled and held out a hand, the demon happily making his way to her side and pressing into the hand she ran through his hair, all the while keeping those burning yellow eyes trained on John. John fought down a shiver. He didn't know how Mary could stand to keep the freaky creature around, especially since they were going to have a baby soon, but he kept quiet and followed his wife into the living room. Azazel walked ahead of them, ready to take up his normal spot on the couch, but stopped dead a few feet into the room, growling softly.

"John," Mary said hesitantly. "What is that?"

Grinning, the Hunter slipped past his wife and the demon and picked up the large oval object that was the cause of all the fuss.

"I got it today," he said. "For Dean or Deanna, for whenever they're old enough to start Hunting."

He ran a hand over the smooth white shell, still slightly amazed at the level of heat coming from the egg.

"I heard that it's better if they grow up together, forms a tighter bond that way."

Mary didn't look like she shared his enthusiasm.

"John, we talked about this."

He glanced down, looking sheepish.

"I know…"

"Angels are a lot of work," she reiterated her previous arguments. "We'll have to get its voice clipped, it'll shed feathers everywhere and we already have a demon. Angels and demons get along worse than cats and dogs, John, you _know _that."

"I know," John soothed, reaching out a hand to cup her cheek. "But honey, baby, love of my life."

She frowned at the string of endearments, knowing he was just turning on the Winchester charm, and resolved to hold firm.

"Just, hold the egg."

She blinked at him as he held out the watermelon sized egg.

"I don't wanna hold the egg, John."

"Come on," he coaxed, wiggling the thing slightly. "You know you wanna."

"No, I don't," Mary said firmly, but was fighting a smile.

"Sure you do," John replied, pressing the egg into her arms and holding it between them.

"There," he said as the warmth from the egg seeped into them. "It's not so bad, is it?"

Mary sighed.

"I still say that demons are better Hunting companions than angels. My dad used nothing but demons his whole career and so did his dad and his grandfather and…"

"And, it is okay to break tradition once in awhile," John butted in. "Besides, it's not like angels are useless at protecting. If they were I doubt they'd have as many details of them guarding the President as they do, or all of those big wig senators. I hear that the Rockefellers have two for their personal security and I'm sure that there are more than a few Hunters who have an angel for a companion instead of a demon."

She sighed.

"I don't know…"

"Come on, Mary," he coaxed, putting on his most winning grin. "I went all the way to Heaven to get it."

At her arched brow he amended.

"Well, Heaven's Hatchery, but it's basically the same thing."

Mary rolled her eyes at her husband but couldn't help but stroke gentle fingers over the pure white shell. Looking down at her stomach she spoke.

"What do you think baby?"

A gentle fluttering sensation was her reply and she grinned.

"Looks like he likes the idea," she said. "I guess we're keeping the angel."

* * *

Azazel was not happy about the new addition and spent nearly every waking moment glowering at the large egg as it sat in its box by the fireplace, flicking his arrow-tipped tail back and forth like an agitated cat. After the first week John had taken to shooing the disgruntled demon out of the living room whenever he was home, trying to make sure the creature didn't do anything to Dean's angel before it hatched. Mary had a slightly different approach. She knew that Azazel was feeling an encroachment on his territory so she took to holding the egg when John was out on Hunts, slowly coaxing Azazel to share space with the soon-to-be addition. He resisted at first, staying as far away from the egg as physically possible and still be in the same room but eventually she was able to get him to curl up beside her on the couch while she held the egg and ran a hand through the demon's hair.

Her father had often talked to his demon like he was an old friend and Mary often chatted to him about her day, just to fill the silence of the house while John was at work, but now she talked to him about how it would be his job to help raise the angel. How he would have to make sure the chick knew how to protect Dean when they were both grown up because, if John had his way, their son would be a Hunter just like his dad and grandpa and he'd need a smart, strong companion like Azazel had been for Samuel.

There were varying arguments about the level of intelligence possessed by demons and angels so Mary was never sure if it was her words or the continued exposure but she was certain her message had gotten through the night she padded downstairs for a midnight snack of jello and ranch dressing and found Azazel asleep, curled up by the fireplace, the angel egg wrapped securely in his arms.


	2. Chapter 2

**Night-time**

John dropped his Hunting gear beside the door and kicked off his boots before silently making his way through the darkened house and slowly climbing the stairs. The night light was on in the hall, casting dim light into Dean's room through the cracked open door. John eased the door open and slipped into his son's room, stopping by the bed and smiling at the sight that greeted him. Dean was curled on his side, thumb tucked in his mouth and dead to the world. Castiel was on the bed with him, mirroring the little boys' position. One wing was draped over the both of them while the other was tucked up tight against his back. The angel chick's wings were almost as long as his body and the feathers were already beginning to darken at the tips. John made a mental note to take him to the Trainer Bobby Singer had recommended. Castiel was almost big enough to start flying. As though sensing him, Castiel opened his brilliant blue eyes and made a soft querying sound. John smiled and ruffled the angel's dark mop of hair before smoothing a hand over his son's blond head. Cas watched John leave the room before snuggling against Dean again and going back to sleep. John left the door open a crack and continued down the hall.

After a quick detour to the bathroom for a fast shower to rid himself of ash and road and grave dirt John pulled on an old pair of grey sweats and padded the few feet to his and Mary's room. Azazel glared up at him from John's side of the bed and the Hunter sighed. Mary spoiled the demon far too much in John's opinion but he'd never say anything to her. Azazel had been Samuel Campbell's Hunting demon since before Mary had been born and she'd always been incredibly attached to him, especially after her father's death. John felt a familiar flash of guilt but pushed it aside. It had been an accident, plain and simple. Neither Mary nor Deanna blamed John but he could never quite shake the feeling that Azazel did. John frowned at the demon that hadn't budged an inch since he'd come in.

"Azazel!" John hissed quietly, trying not to wake his sleeping wife. "Down."

He snapped his fingers and pointed to the floor. Azazel watched him with the unimpressed disinterest of a big cat, yellow eyes gleaming in the half light coming in from the hallway.

"Azazel," came Mary's sleepy voice. "Come on, get down. You know the rules."

One pale hand emerged to push at the demon's shoulder. He resisted for a minute, leaning into her touch and purring softly before relenting and settling on his blankets on the floor on Mary's side of the bed. John shut the door and climbed in beside his wife, kissing her cheek and laying a possessive hand on her rounded belly, feeling Sammy shift and move inside her. Mary sighed happily and snuggled into his embrace.

"That thing hates me," John said after a beat and Mary sighed again, more exasperated than happy this time.

"Azazel does not hate you," she explained for the umpteenth time. "He's just… territorial."

"But he's in _my_ territory," he replied, smiling into her hair.

"To him, where ever he's at is his territory. Demon's are like cats that way."

John snorted.

"Well, at least he doesn't shred the furniture."

"That's the spirit," she mumbled encouragingly.

They settled into silence, Mary sliding her own hand down to cover John's on her stomach and lacing their fingers together.

"So, how'd it go tonight?" she asked softly.

"Damn backhoe broke down," he replied grumpily. "We had to dig him up with shovels. In the rain."

"Ooh," she sympathized. "Poor baby."

John grunted in agreement. After a few minutes he felt her shaking in his arms and raised up on an elbow to see her face.

"Mary?" he asked, concerned. "Are you…"

He narrowed his eyes as he caught sight of her face.

"Are you _laughing_?"

He sounded offended and she shook her head.

"Of course not," she said, sounding a little strained, then peeked one eye open, caught sight of John's affronted expression, and dissolved into giggles.

John growled good-naturedly and pounced, nimble fingers quickly seeking out her sensitive spots, making Mary squeak and wiggle. Down the hall Dean blinked into the dark, listening for whatever had woken him up. Recognizing his parents' voices, the little boy relaxed. Castiel blinked at him.

"Dean."

"S'okay, Cas," Dean soothed. "It's just Mommy and Daddy. Go back to sleep."

The boy settled in, hugging the little angel tight and let the sounds of his parent's laughter lull him back to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Flying Lessons**

(takes place not long after Night-time)

Disclaimer: Yes, I, Eric Kripke, have nothing better to do with my time besides write fanfiction of my own show and post it on the internet. Pfft, I wish. Not mine, never will be.

After lunch, John had insisted that Mary should take a nap, or at least get off of her feet. She was well into the third trimester, only a month left until baby Sammy entered the world, and the strain was beginning to show. After settling his wife down on the sofa with Azazel standing guard, John had returned to the kitchen to clean up the dishes while Dean and Castiel played out in the yard. There was a stiff summer breeze blowing across the yard, bending the grass blades in shimmering waves of green and tossing leaves into the air to swirl in the eddying currents. John watched Dean amuse himself by tossing random bits of plant life into the air and watching them swirl away before his attention was captured by something in the sky. Pausing in brushing sandwich crumbs off the plate in his hand, John leaned over the sink, peering upward; trying to see what had caught his son's eye. It was birds, two of them, circling each other, swooping and diving in an aerial dance that had his son enraptured.

Looking back, John would pinpoint this as the exact moment he began dreading that look on Dean's face but at the time, the Hunter was blissfully ignorant as the wheels began turning inside Dean's four-year-old skull. Turning his gaze from the birds, he settled those green eyes on Castiel who continued to watch the birds, oblivious. It should also be noted that this is the day Castiel resolved to try to know what was going through Dean's head at all times. Admittedly, John's attention was divided three ways; between listening for Mary or Azazel in case his wife needed anything, scrubbing dried ketchup off of the plate in his hands, and keeping half an eye on his son and his angel, it was easy for John to miss Dean pointing first to the birds, then to Castiel. When the little angel only tilted his head at the boy Dean elaborated by tugging gently on one of the angel's wings then flapping his own arms to demonstrate.

John glanced up as Castiel unfurled his wings, stretching them experimentally in the breeze as Dean watched, wide-eyed, before folding them against his back again. John smiled, reminding himself to call that trainer guy after he was done with the dishes as he scrubbed at the stubborn red mess. He didn't know what they put in ketchup to give it the sticking power of super glue, but it couldn't be natural. Another glance up found Dean wrapping Castiel in the kind of enthusiastic hug only a pre-schooler could manage, then he was back to dealing with the ketchup. Maybe he could try prying it off with one of the table knives. What John saw on his third glance up was what propelled his heart into his throat and his feet out the front door, yelling Dean's name.

Mary was jerked out of her doze by the sound of a plate shattering on the linoleum and John's thundering footsteps toward the front door.

"Dean!"

"John?!" she called, alarmed, trying to push her uncooperative body up off of the couch. Azazel was there in a heartbeat, offering her a hand up and anxiously following behind her as she quickly waddled her way to the wide open door.

"John?" she repeated as she spotted him in the yard, frantically darting back and forth, from side to side, his eyes trained somewhere above them. Following his line of sight, Mary almost had a heart attack right there. "Dean!"

There, about ten feet above the ground, was her baby boy. His little arms were wrapped tightly around Castiel's neck, the angel's own secured around the boys' waist, but it was obvious that the angel had no idea what he was doing. Anything with wings is born with the instinct to flap them, which was about all that Castiel was paying any attention to at the time. John had started calling the angel's name, trying to snap him out of the shock of his first flight to get both him and Dean back on the ground. Mrs. Carter from next door was drawn outside by the shouting. Her shriek of horror at the Winchesters' predicament apparently got through to Castiel where John couldn't. His whole body jolted at the shock of the sound, then, he froze, wings pausing mid-beat. The two plummeted like a couple of rocks and Mary stopped breathing for a brief eternity. John was right below them, arms held up and out to catch the falling boy and angel, all three of them ending up on the ground from the force and combined weight.

It was Dean's laughter that finally broke through Mary's paralysis and sent her running down the steps and across the lawn to her husband's side.

"That was fun!" Dean declared, his face flushed with excitement. "Can we do it again?"

"No!" Mary yelled, going to her knees in the grass, hands reaching for her baby, running them over his body, making sure nothing was broken or bleeding. Momentarily assured that Dean wasn't dying, Mary gripped his upper arms tight and forced him to face her. "No! You will never do that again! Ever, do you understand me?"

Dean's young face crumpled in the face of his mother's anger, tears quickly filling his eyes.

"I'm okay, mommy," he explained, his breath hitching. "Cas wouldn't hurt me."

At the mention of the angel, Mary's gaze immediately sought him out. The angel was pressed close to John's side, wings curled tight to his back, cowering against Mary's obvious anger. The blonde woman stood, sweeping Dean up and settling him on her hip and glared down at John.

"No more, John," she declared. "No more angels. I gave it a shot but I want it out of this house!"

Dean immediately began to wail, reaching for his angel and calling his name. Castiel reacted to Dean's distress, instinctively trying to go to his human's side, but Mary quickly backed away from the little angel.

"Now, Mary," John said soothingly. "You know we can't get rid of Cas, Dean's bonded to him. Breaking that bond would hurt him more than that little fall…"

"Then I want its wings clipped," she cut in. "God damn it, John! I told you I didn't want angels for our boys!"

She broke off and started pacing, bouncing Dean a little, trying to sooth him as she made sense of her jumbled thoughts. Finally she settled on, "I'm taking him to the hospital," and strode toward the Impala. Nodding, John jogged up to the house, grabbing the keys and heading to the car, calling back to Mrs. Carter if she would please watch the house until they got back.

"Of course," the elderly woman replied. "I hope he's okay."

John nodded his thanks and got in the car. Jane Carter watched the small family disappear down the street before turning her attention to the angel and demon left on their front lawn. The Yellow-Eyes looked lost, circling the obviously distraught angel curled up on the grass. It had wrapped its wings around itself and was making a high-pitched sound that set Jane's fillings to aching. She'd never really interacted with the Winchester's pets before so she approached cautiously. She'd heard all kinds of stories about angels and demons having special powers and whatnot and wasn't quite sure what to expect. The Yellow-Eyes had settled by the angel and was making soft soothing noises at it that didn't seem to be having much of an effect. The demon looked up at her as she approached and Jane held out a hand, like you would to a new dog, silently praying that it wouldn't be bitten off.

The demon studied her hand for several breathless moments, sniffing at her skin, then darted its forked tongue out to tickle across the back of her hand. It looked up at her then over at the angel, its gaze clearly pleading for help. Taking the lick as acceptance, Jane knelt by the trembling angel chick and hesitantly smoothed her hand over its feathers, the only part of it visible at the moment, cocooned as it was in its own wings. The feathers were unbelievably soft and downy in places, like the baby chickens her parents had raised when she was a girl. After several minutes of just stroking its wings, the chick finally ceased the high-pitched whine and began leaning into Jane's hand. It loosened its wings enough to free its other limbs and crawl into her lap, curling into the arms she instinctively wrapped around its body. She continued stroking the soft wings and murmuring soothingly to it as she studied the angel up close.

It had always made her slightly uncomfortable, just how human these creatures looked. Take away the wings and the angel in her lap looked unsettlingly like her grandson had at its age, right down to the blue, blue eyes. In fact, take away the odd colored eyes, fleshy tail, and forked tongue, the demon sitting next to her could be a random man on the street.

"Cassstiel."

Jane jerked in surprise, the angel chick freezing in her arms at the sudden movement. Mother of God, they could talk!

"C-castiel?" she repeated and the demon nodded, laying a hand on the angel.

"Cassstiel," it repeated then placed the hand on its own chest. "Azazel."

It seemed to be able to pronounce the Z's of its name better than the S of the angel's, but, Jane reasoned, speaking with a forked tongue couldn't be easy.


	4. Chapter 4

**Lucifer**

(happens around the same time as Flying Lessons)

Disclaimer: Yes, I, Eric Kripke, have nothing better to do with my time besides write fanfiction of my own show and post it on the internet. Pfft, I wish. Not mine, never will be.

Lucifer loved to fly, the feeling of the wind whipping through his hair and over his body as his powerful wings pushed him through the sky was like nothing else in the world. David liked to watch him twisting through the air whenever the human boy had the chance, often abandoning his school work in favor of spending time with the angel. Lucifer didn't mind. Though he knew David's parents weren't his own, he still viewed the small band of humans as his family, David as his brother, David's father as his own. David's mother, Karen, was kind to Lucifer and he loved her just like all the other humans that lived and worked at the big house, but she never really treated him like a son. Not that it really mattered; he was loved here so he was happy. Spotting David coming out of the house, Lucifer wheeled around and dove toward the ground, tucking his great, red wings behind him as he hurled toward the grass, spreading them wide at the last minute to slow his descent and get his feet under him. He had barely gotten his wings folded properly before David bowled into him, almost taking the both of them to the grass. David hugged him tight, burying his face in Lucifer's stomach, and Lucifer returned the affectionate gesture. David mumbled something into Lucifer's shirt and the angel looked down at him.

"I didn't hear you, David," he said, pulling back to look into the human's face but David remained clinging to him and even tightened his grip. Lucifer frowned and pushed back on the 12-year-old's shoulders so he could see his face. Alarmed by the tears that were revealed, Lucifer crouched down to be eye-to-eye with David.

"David, what's wrong?" he asked, distressed.

"I don't want you to go," David croaked, sniffling loudly and scrubbing at his face with the sleeve of his shirt. Lucifer shook his head, smiling reassuringly.

"I'm not going anywhere," he assured. "Who said I was?"

"Dad," David replied. "He says 'cause of the damn investors we gotta *_sniff_* sell a buncha stuff an' that you're worth a lotta money an' we're gonna hafta sell you an' all our stuff an' move to a new house in a new town an' I don't wanna sell you!"

David's voice had gotten progressively louder as his explanation went on and by the end tears were freely coursing down his cheeks again. Pushing past Lucifer's lax grip the boy buried his face in the angel's stomach again, resuming his strangle hold around his middle. Stunned by David's revelation, Lucifer was frozen for a moment, absently wrapping his arms around the boy and stroking his dark hair. Sell him? Father was going to sell him? But, that didn't make any sense, humans didn't sell each other and he may not be human but he was family. They loved him, David couldn't be right.

Lucifer understood, in an abstract way, that his family was different from most humans. They had more possessions than most, more cars, a bigger house, a large boat Father called a 'yacht' that they used to travel to different places, and he understood that sometimes Father would sell some of these things, trade them to other humans for different things, but that couldn't be what they were planning to do with him. He wasn't one of Father's cars or boats, he wasn't a possession. He was family. Coming to a conclusion, Lucifer nodded firmly to himself. David was just mistaken, it happened often with the young boy. He would overhear a small part of one of Father's private conversations and jump to conclusions. Lucifer still chuckled over the time David had been convinced that they were all moving to the Bahamas when, in fact, Father had only been planning to build a vacation home there, not a permanent residence. Chuckling at the memory, Lucifer peeled his bother off of his chest and explained his theory, reminding the boy of that time, as well as several others, but David was adamant. They were broke and Father was selling Lucifer so the family could move to Connecticut. Shaking his head at the boys' stubbornness, Lucifer pulled them both to their feet and set out in search of their Father. He would set David straight.

Their Father was in his office along with another man, and he smiled when Lucifer and David knocked and pushed the door open.

"Ah, Lucifer," Father greeted. "Come in, I want you to meet someone."

He gestured to the other man.

"This is Mr. Adler."

The man turned and smiled at Lucifer.

"Call me Zachariah," the man said.

Lucifer smiled politely and shook the man's hand.

"Dad," David whispered. "Please don't."

"David," their Father said sternly. "Go to your room."

"But…"

"Now."

With one final, teary glance at Lucifer, David left the office. Father waited until the sounds of David's shoes had faded up the stairs before speaking again. Mr. Adler, Zachariah, had begun circling Lucifer, looking him over. It was making the angel uncomfortable and he shifted restlessly, wondering why Father had sent David away. Was he one of the 'damn investors'? A lot of them didn't seem to like children. Lucifer was about to draw breath to speak when Zachariah beat him to it.

"I've never seen an angel with solid colored wings before," he said and Father beamed.

"Well, there aren't many like our Lucifer. Only four in the entire world." Lucifer couldn't help but swell at the pride he heard in Father's voice. Zachariah nodded, still circling him.

"Yes, that's right," he muttered softly. "Michael, Gabriel, and Raphael are all from the same litter, correct?"

Father nodded, still beaming. It was starting to make Lucifer nervous. They were talking _about_ him but not _to_ him. He didn't like it.

"That's right. The only successful crossbreeding of an angel and a demon," Father explained to the man, then added, almost as an afterthought. "Oh, he, uh, has a tail, too."

"Really?" Zachariah asked, intrigued, as Lucifer's head whipped up to stare at his Father in shock. Lucifer had always been a little self-conscious of his tail and kept it carefully hidden, Father knew that. Why would he tell this strange man about it?

"I think I'd like to see that," the man continued.

"Of course," Father replied then looked to Lucifer. "Show him."

"Father?" the angel asked, one of the few words he'd been able to get in since entering the study.

"You heard me," Father said firmly and Lucifer clenched his jaw, crossing his arms tightly before dropping the natural glamour angels and demons used to cloak their bodies, imitating their humans.

Lucifer wasn't ashamed to be seen naked, usually he found it incredibly freeing, but now… His blood red wings were held tight to his back, his crossed arms almost hugging himself, tail wrapped tight around one well-muscled thigh as Zachariah Adler circled him again, making comments and asking questions, which Lucifer's father readily answered.

"Father?" he asked, finally, ignoring the other man in the room. "What's going on?"

Father looked down at his desk, scratched at his nose, then looked up at the angel.

"Lucifer," he began. "I don't expect you to understand but my business has gone bankrupt, we have no more money…"

Lucifer stared at his Father, shocked speechless.

"So you're going to go live with Mr. Adler here."

David had been right.

"Doesn't that sound like fun?"


	5. Chapter 5

**Missouri**

Disclaimer: Yes, I, Eric Kripke, have nothing better to do with my time besides write fanfiction of my own show and post it on the internet. Pfft, I wish. Not mine, never will be.

The Trainer Bobby Singer had recommended was located a couple hours outside of Sioux Falls, South Dakota. Once the doctor had assured Mary that Dean was fine and she'd had a chance to calm down, John was able to talk her out of anything as drastic as clipping the angel's wings by promising to start his training right away, which is how John found himself in South Dakota with the miserable chick in tow.

John looked around curiously. Having never had a Companion of his own, he'd never been inside any of the various training facilities scattered across the country and hadn't really known what to expect. The most of what he'd seen so far was a generic waiting room, walls painted soft blue, pre-requisite rows of uncomfortable plastic seats bolted too close together, and various enlarged framed photos on the walls showing angels and demons being put through their paces. One in particular caught his eye; obviously taken from the air it showed a garrison of three angels, their powerful wings spread in flight, and he recalled why he'd wanted angels as Companions for his kids. At the base, before he'd been shipped out, they'd had an air show for the troops. Even now he could call up the same sense of awe he'd felt watching the Air Force's angels soaring through the sky in perfect synchronization.

Heading back to the chair he'd left Dean's angel curled up on, he picked the chick up before settling in the chair himself with a sigh. It seemed as though Castiel had finally tired himself out after spending the drive through Kansas and across Nebraska huddled in the backseat making a high-pitched keening sound that not even Led Zeppelin could drown out. It had almost broken John's heart to do it but the sooner he got Castiel trained up the sooner he could get the angel back to his son.

"John! John Winchester!"

John blinked, the unknown voice drawing him out of his thoughts, and looked around. He didn't have to look long as the owner of the voice, a young black woman, settled herself in one of the plastic chairs beside him. He studied the woman's face, trying to place where she knew him from because he didn't recognize her. Had he helped her on a case?

"Don't worry honey," she said. "You don't know me."

"Then how..?"

"I'm Missouri Mosley."

Recognition sparked. He may not have seen her face before but the Hunter did know her name. There weren't many Hunters who didn't.

"The psychic," he said and Missouri nodded.

"I don't know how much you know about what I do," she began without preamble. "But it's not like it is in the movies. It's a face, a feelin', and when you and that little guy walked in here I got goosebumps all over."

John frowned but she continued before he could speak.

"Now, I don't know exactly what, but there's somethin' brewing and your boys, this little guy," she ran a gentle hand down one of Castiel's downy wings, "They're all smack in the middle of it."

"What does that mean?" John demanded, unconsciously tightening his grip on the angel in his arms.

Missouri shook her head.

"I wish I could tell you more but the big things, especially the ones that are far off; they never come in clear."

John opened his mouth to argue more but Missouri cut him off.

"Now it's a long ways off so there's no sense in worryin' about it right now," she said firmly as Castiel began to stir, John's agitation pulling him from his exhausted slumber. Wide blue eyes took in the unfamiliar surroundings and that distressed whine started up again, nowhere near what it could be or even what it had been in the car but John knew from personal experience that it could quickly grow in both pitch and volume. Adult angels had been known to shatter glass and rupture ear drums with their cries; it was the reason civilian angels were muted soon after hatching.

"Hey, hey, hey," John said softly, running a soothing hand over Castiel's feathers, bouncing him gently like he sometimes did with Dean. The angel clung to him, beginning to tremble.

"Let me try," Missouri suggested, reaching for Cas. John balked.

"I don't know," he said. "I'm not sure how he'll react to strangers."

Missouri smiled kindly at him.

"And just why do you think I work here? It sure ain't to help the Hunters."

Seeing the logic in that argument John handed the chick over and Missouri cuddled him close, rocking a bit from side-to-side, murmuring soothingly.

"Hey now, honey," she crooned. "Everything's gonna be just fine, ain't nobody gonna hurt you here. We've just got to teach you how to use your wings right and protect that boy of yours."

Castiel gazed up at the psychic as she gently stroked a hand over his feathers. He had stopped his distressed cry and was studying the woman curiously, head cocked to one side, bits of his messy dark hair falling across his forehead. After several seconds, he chirped curiously.

"My," Missouri said. "You are a young one. Not much older than my Anna. What are you doing here so soon honey?"

John opened his mouth to answer but paused, raising an eyebrow as Cas beat him to it; not in words of course, but with the chirps and odd sounds he used when playing with Azazel or Dean. Missouri nodded as Cas 'spoke' to her and John smiled as she indulged the chick but then her eyes widened and she started laughing.

"Oh! Oh, my. You're sure gonna have your work cut out for you with that boy, baby. Most angels can't fly with someone else until they're a lot older than you… and your first flight, too."

John stared at the psychic. Dean swore up and down that he could understand what Cas was saying to him but John hadn't really believed it, figuring the boy was just picking up on the angel's body language without realizing it… until now. The two ignored his shocked gaze as Cas continued to chirp at Missouri, but less animated than before. The woman's features took on a sympathetic air as she hugged the little angel close.

"Oh, baby. Mary doesn't hate you; she knows you wouldn't hurt Dean on purpose. She was just scared is all. I'm sure that when you get back home everything'll be just fine."

She pressed a kiss to the top of his head and he snuggled into her embrace as a door by the reception desk opened and a man stepped out. He glanced around the waiting room before catching sight of Missouri and settling his gaze on the man beside her.

"John Winchester?" he asked.

"That's me," John said, standing and meeting the man half-way.

"I'm Caleb Fletcher," the man introduced himself as they shook hands. "So, you know Bobby Singer?"

"Yeah," John said. "He took over my apprenticeship after Samuel Campbell passed."

Caleb nodded.

"That's what Bobby said. You married Campbell's daughter, Mary, didn't you?"

John nodded.

"How is she?" Caleb asked, continuing on to Missouri.

"She's good, pregnant with our second boy. Our first son, Dean, it's his angel we need to start training and Bobby said that you were the best."

"Well, normally I'd say don't believe a thing that old coot says about me but in this case he happens to be right."

Missouri snorted at that and stood with Castiel cuddled in her arms.

"Is that so?" she asked, one delicate brow arched.

John watched as Caleb's eyes widened a bit, taking on a slightly panicked look and the man quickly backtracked his words.

"What I meant to say is that my _place_ is the best. Honestly, I don't know where I'd be if Missouri hadn't signed on when she did. She has a real way with the Companions."

He gave the psychic a wide smile, like a little boy trying to impress his teacher, and she laughed, patting his cheek as she walked to the door he'd entered from.

"That's what I thought you meant."


	6. Chapter 6

**Gabriel**

Disclaimer: Yes, I, Eric Kripke, have nothing better to do with my time besides write fanfiction of my own show and post it on the internet. Pfft, I wish. Not mine, never will be.

Lucifer hated Zachariah Adler with a passion. The man was nothing like Lucifer's family had been, didn't even live in the same place. Adler lived in a city, at the very top of the tallest building Lucifer had ever seen. The apartment wasn't all that bad, large and spacious, filled with the same kinds of fine things Father had enjoyed, but it was cold. Not temperature wise, the climate was actually quite nice, but the place itself felt more like the large room at his old house that had always been closed up except when Father entertained large numbers of people he hoped to impress. His home, large and refined as it had been, had still felt lived in, joyful, warm and inviting. Adler's residence was none of those things.

Lucifer had his own room here, but again, nothing like Home. It was located on the roof of Zachariah's building, and completely enclosed in glass. Zachariah called it an aviary, said with a smirk that Lucifer soon learned meant the man thought he was being very clever. Lucifer wasn't impressed. The room was big, huge, except it was filled, nearly floor to high domed ceiling, with plants. The angel barely had room enough to spread his wings, let alone the space needed to achieve flight. He wasn't the only occupant of the 'aviary' either. Soon after his arrival Lucifer discovered that Zachariah was quite the collector of exotic animals, mostly birds. Birds that had no trouble achieving lift in the limited space of the Aviary and his days soon became a mirror to David's, spending hours wrapped in his useless wings as he watched the brightly colored birds dart and soar through the air above him.

Lucifer's days weren't all spent just watching the birds though. Zachariah, he discovered, had a lot of money and he liked other people to know that, having parties four or five times a month in order to show off his wealth and, most often, Lucifer. A demon/angel hybrid was a great curiosity to the humans Adler worked and interacted with and Lucifer became a regular at the human's gatherings. He hated those most of all, forced to hover at Zachariah's side, wings pressed tight to his back, the tail Adler forbid him to hide coiled around his thigh, as humans spoke about him like he couldn't understand their words, forcing himself not to flinch every time an unwanted touch slid over his feathers or the bare flesh of his torso. He'd never wanted to cover himself so much in his life as he did now.

Zachariah touched him quite a bit as well. Not usually when they were alone but at the parties the human was always within reaching distance with a hand on Lucifer's arm, the small of his back or the back of his neck. It made Lucifer uncomfortable in a way very few things did and he always did his best to remain just out of range even though that seemed to encourage the others to pet him more frequently, forcing him to sidle closer to Zachariah and his smug grin, his possessive touch. He'd been in Adler's possession for about three months, had almost resigned himself to this life, when it all changed.

Zachariah was having another party, smaller than most but still enough humans to put Lucifer on edge. For once the angel didn't seem to be the focus of the gathering, small snippets of conversation centering more on business, stocks and shares and other things Lucifer didn't understand but he dutifully followed Zachariah as he made his rounds, greeting his guests. The angel had begun retreating into his own head to block out the next few hours when the door opened and a young woman entered. Zachariah broke into a pleased grin and strode to her side as a man entered behind her.

"Bella," Zachariah greeted happily. The two clasped hands and kissed each other on both cheeks, a greeting Lucifer had never seen before.

"Zachariah," the woman said in return, smiling up at the man before her gaze flickered over to Lucifer. "You've acquired him I see."

"Yes," Zachariah confirmed, placing a hand on Lucifer's back, easing his hand between the angel's wings to press against bare flesh and push him forward. "Bella, this is Lucifer."

The woman, Bella, looked him over then did something that startled the angel. She spoke _to_ him.

"Hello, Lucifer," she said, her voice accented with a British lilt. "I'm Bella Talbot and I've heard so much about you. I've brought someone for you to meet. I don't know if you remember him or not but…"

She reached toward the man at her back, beckoning him forward and Lucifer's eyes widened. The man wasn't a man at all, he was an angel, shorter than Lucifer and Zachariah but taller than Bella. His wings, a solid mahogany color, were held loosely behind him and a smirk curved his lips as he absently played with the long fleshy tail that curled over his hip, studying Lucifer with sharp, dark eyes that glittered with mischief, like he knew the world's greatest joke and wasn't about to share it with anyone. Bella smiled over at him, one well-manicured hand resting on his shoulder, then looked to Lucifer again.

"This is your brother, Gabriel."

* * *

"So," Gabriel began as he staked out a spot by the hors d'oeuvres table and began grazing after Bella and Zachariah wandered off, chatting together. "How're you liking livin' with ole Zack?"

He popped a mini-quiche into his mouth and stared expectantly at his younger brother. Lucifer stared at his feet.

"I want to go home," he whispered.

Gabriel swallowed then snaked his tail out to snag a glass of champagne off a passing tray and took a swallow.

"Hate to be the one to break it to ya, bro, but this _is_ home now."

"This isn't Home," he replied softly. "This is Hell."

"Oh, yeah?"

Gabriel picked up another small bit of food, chewed thoughtfully waiting for Lucifer to continue.

"I haven't been outside since I got here, can't fly, there's always humans around touching me, talking about me but not to me… I hate it here."

Gabriel finished his latest snack and finished off the champagne, watching the anger flare in Lucifer's eyes as they followed Zachariah Adler around the room. Bella caught his eye and beckoned to him. Gabriel brushed his hands together to rid them of imaginary crumbs then turned and gripped his brother's shoulders, catching his eyes. When he was sure he had the other angel's attention, he spoke.

"If there's one thing I've learned from humans and Bella in particular," he grinned then, "It's that if you want something you have to take it."

Lucifer frowned.

"What does that mean?"

"It means, that if you hate it here so bad," he paused giving Lucifer a meaningful look, "what are you gonna do about it?"

Lucifer gazed at his brother silently until Gabriel clapped him on the shoulder and turned away, making his way to Bella's side, pressing up against her back and wrapping his arms around her waist. She laughed at his antics and went back to her conversation as Gabriel turned to fix his dark eyes on Lucifer. Lucifer returned his own gaze to Zachariah who was making his way over to the angel.

What _was_ he going to do about it?


	7. Chapter 7

**New Additions**

Disclaimer: Yes, I, Eric Kripke, have nothing better to do with my time besides write fanfiction of my own show and post it on the internet. Pfft, I wish. Not mine, never will be.

Castiel was at the Training Center for three months, learning to fly and respond to simple commands given by first Caleb and then John when he returned during the end of the third month to ensure that the chick would obey him and not Dean. Not until they were both older at least. Since Cas' training only contained the barest essentials he ended up having much more free time than the other companions, most of which he spent with Missouri and her own angel chick, Anna. The little female had flaming red hair; her wings still fluffy with down and snowy white, only the barest hints of red beginning to appear. She was fun to play with and it was nice to be around his own kind for a little while, but Castiel missed Dean. Missouri said that it was because of the bond they shared, a sort of psychic link that formed between humans and their companions. It was most common in those with angels but was known to appear in humans with demons as well. When the Impala finally rumbled up to the Center on the last day of Cas' training, the angel was more than ready to leave.

By the time John pulled into the driveway Castiel was squirming in the back seat, his hands pressed against the window as he peered out, watching the landscape become familiar. He'd started making eager sounds after they'd passed the general store on the corner, excited chirps interspaced with Dean's name and the word home. John smiled at the chick in the rearview mirror before reaching back to try to calm the chick and get him to stop bouncing around the backseat.

"Yeah buddy," he said. "We're home."

He parked and shut off the car, pulling the key from the ignition and scooping the angel into his arms. It was easier to control him that way. It wouldn't do to have him startling the newest additions on his first day back. Dean was out the front door before John had taken two steps, a happy cry of "Cas!" alerting the neighborhood that the angel had returned. Castiel renewed his squirming and John relented, setting the angel on the ground in time to be wrapped in an enthusiastic hug. Mrs. Carter stepped out the front door and smiled at John as he walked up to the steps.

"I'll watch them if you want to go inside," she said. "Might be best if they both burn off some energy before going in."

John bowed to her greater knowledge, she'd raised six of her own after all, and went to greet his wife and baby Sammy. Unsurprisingly, Jane had been right. It took the two nearly an hour and a half to calm down and wander up to the older woman, Dean asking if he and Cas could have a snack. She had smiled down at them, reminding Dean to use his inside voice because his mom was sleeping, and encouraged to introduce Castiel to his new baby brother while she made them some peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Dean took Castiel's hand and led him up the stairs and to the room closest to John and Mary's. He pressed up close to the bars of the crib that had been sitting in the room for several months before Castiel had been taken to the Center and encouraged Castiel to do the same.

"Cas," Dean said. "This is Sammy, he's my brother. Sammy, this is Cas. He's an angel. He's not like Ruby and Azazel. He's got wings and can really fly."

Dean continued introducing the angel to his little brother as Castiel studied the tiny human. Sam stared at them both, kicking happily at the sound of Dean's voice and reaching on chubby hand out to them while he gnawed on the other. Cas had never seen a human so small and reached a hand through the bars, jerking in surprise when Sam grabbed hold of his finger. The baby's skin was incredibly soft.

"Cassstiel," a voice sounded behind them and the two turned their heads to look at the demon.

"Cas is back," Dean said unnecessarily before turning back to this brother. "I'm showing him Sammy."

Castiel remained staring at the demon, or rather, what the demon held. There was a smaller demon in his arms, a blonde-headed female that was staring at him with narrowed black eyes, her tail wrapped tightly around Azazel's wrist. Castiel gently took his finger from Sam's grasp and turned fully to study this newest addition. After a moment Dean noticed that Cas' attention was no longer on the spectacle that was Sammy and turned around as well.

"Oh," he said. "This is Ruby. Daddy got her for Sammy. She's a demon."

He walked up to the two demons and reached up to touch her arm. Ruby glanced down at him but allowed the touch, her gaze still riveted on the angel. Dean beckoned him closer. Ruby was younger than him and Dean but bigger than Sammy. Azazel went to his knees as the little angel approached so they could all be eye-to-eye. He patted Cas' wings then pulled him close to press their foreheads together in greeting before pulling back and holding Ruby up a little higher. He touched her hand, getting her attention, then placed it on Cas' shoulder again.

"Cassstiel," he said then looked to Cas and transferred his touch to the little demon. "Ruby."

Cas tilted his head.

"Ruby," he said and reached for Ruby like Dean had, but quickly jerked it back when she hissed at him.


End file.
